


forts

by moth_writes



Series: smiling fate [16]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), Fluff, M/M, Pillow & Blanket Forts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27985659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moth_writes/pseuds/moth_writes
Summary: Simon has a bad day. Baz has a bad day. The obvious solution is a blanket fort....I feel shitty when I get home....He looks so confident, so happy here. I love it.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: smiling fate [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026844
Comments: 1
Kudos: 37
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2020





	forts

**Author's Note:**

> Done for the Carry On Countdown Day 17: Blanket Forts

SIMON

I feel shitty when I get home.

It’s raining, and I got splashed early in my walk home by a passing car. I had to make the whole thing soaking wet and cold. And before that work sucked-one of my coworkers forgot to turn off an oven and we had to call the fire department even though it was only a little fire. Four different customers yelled at me for messing up their order-even though I triple check all of them and they were definitely right. And then, to top it all off, I messed up a huge batch of dough and we had to throw away hours worth of work.

I fumble the key for a good five minutes before I manage to get it in and open the door. The flat is empty, as I knew it’d be. Baz has class and Penny moved out months ago.

I snag a bag of crisps from the kitchen and collapse on the couch. I love working at a bakery, truly, but sometimes I hate the people.

I eat the crisps one by one until the bags empty, then tip the leftover crumbs into my mouth. 

I don’t feel any better.

Worse, actually. Now I feel bad I ate all of Baz’s favorite crisps.

I decide this calls for it-desperate times, desperate measures-and head to the bedroom.

I pull all of the blankets off the bed and gather them in my arms. I’ll have to come back for the pillows, though.

I’ve only made a pillow fort once, with Baz’s siblings. They did most of the work, I was really just there to make sure none of them got hurt.

I drag the kitchen chairs out and set them in front of the couch, then drape the biggest blanket over the backs. I throw the other end over the back of the couch, then step back to see what I’ve done.

I frown.

It’s lopsided and sinks down too far in the middle. I get the pillows-I don’t think Baz will be mad I used his, not for this-and push them underneath the back. That helps a little. The top doesn’t sink in so far.

I decide it’s good enough and crawl in. It’s trickier than I thought it’d be-my foot catches on one of the chairs and almost tips it over and I nearly pull the blanket down on me-but I get in eventually and it’s still mostly assembled.

I close my eyes. I think I’ll have a nap until Baz gets home.

Maybe he’ll help me fix this.

…

BAZ

The flat is dark when I arrive.

It’s been a long day, and I just want to eat-both kinds of eat-and sleep. 

There wasn’t anything  _ bad _ , per se, but it was draining. I’m mentally exhausted-with the holidays coming up my workload has doubled, and I still have classes on top of it all.

I take a page from Simon’s book and don’t think about the assignments I still have to do.

I walk through the kitchen into the living room. There’s something in the couch, a blanket draped over it. I glance back into the kitchen and-yes, two chairs are missing. My guess is they’re what’s holding the blanket up.

It’s a shitty blanket fort. I don’t think Simon’s ever made one by himself, though.

My siblings make me do one every time I stay overnight. I’ve become quite adept at it.

I walk silently in case he’s asleep. He didn’t react when I came in, so he likely is.

He is. 

Simon is asleep under a mostly collapsed blanket. I decide I have to do something about the disgrace of a fort he’s made.

I fetch the extra sheets from the closet and set to work.

…

SIMON

When I wake it’s dark. 

There’s a sheet draped over me that wasn’t there before, either. I guess Baz got home.

Then I notice it. 

The fort.

It’s been changed, and a lot. It still uses the back of the couch, but it’s bigger and steadier and there’s even a door now. A door that can be opened and closed.

I get up carefully, fighting the urge to stretch until I get out of the fort. I don’t want to accidentally knock it down.

My wings are still held in, but my tail has come unspelled. I take the end of it and hold it close to me.

Baz is in the kitchen. He has headphones in-the silly posh ones without any cords at all-and he doesn’t notice me at first.

And then he does, and he smiles with fangs and all.

I grin back. I already feel much better.

Then I notice the ingredients on the table and the pan simmering on the stove. There’s a cup half-full of blood set to the side, and I think, that’s why his fangs are out. He’s gotten much less self conscious about them now, and I love it.

I step closer and press myself to Baz’s back, with my forehead against his shoulder and my arms around his waist.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” I say back. 

“I’m making dinner,” he tells me. I grunt and nod as best I can and his shoulder shake just a little.

“Smells good,” I mumble. He laughs again and stirs whatever’s cooking in the pan. I can’t tell what it is yet, but there’s some sort of sauce and what looks like chunks of chicken.

He hums, and after a beat says “You’re shit at blanket forts.”

I think normally I’d be offended. I’m too happy to care right now, though, and I’ve still got nap-brain, so I just laugh. “Yeah. Never learned how.”

“I’ll show you,” he offers. “You know my siblings make me build one every time I babysit. I’ve become quite proficient.”

“Yeah,” I say because I can’t think of anything else. “Okay. Let’s do that.”

“After dinner.” he promises and I smile.

“Yeah.”

“Can you chop some vegetables for me?” he aks and I nod. 

“Which ones?” 

“Onion, tomato, carrots. If we have any potatoes left a couple of those too.”

I step back and pause. He looks so confident, so happy here. I love it.

I want to tell him that. 

So I do, and I love the grin he gives he when he says it back.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
